© 2012 Michael Fiveson
I marvel at them
spiritual and graceful
so easy to love
a close look I get
they are trusting but careful
I would hurt me first
their presence is joy
little things that fill me up
harvested moments
© 2012 Michael Fiveson
You won’t hear children
not on desolation street
no place to play now
the old timers know
but are too tired to care
that their town has died
Just the bar still stands
weary souls and alcohol
how did this happen….
© 2012 Michael Fiveson
long since abandoned
forgotten on a lone track
now a rusting shell
birds fly in and out
where children once laughed and slept
fools take pictures now
some still hear it roar
late at night when others sleep
a ghost train haunted
© 2012 Michael Fiveson
laughter filled this yard
and then the years fell away
adults now, still loved
the still of country
sweet breezes and lemonade
life is slipping by
I have tasted joy
quiet mornings spent with you
that’s my religion
© 2012 Michael Fiveson
when Bob closed his store
people still returned items
threw them through windows
just to stay alive
Bob ran to the rear exit
when the mob broke in
Bob is unemployed
his once proud store in tatters
now he just mumbles
An old movie house that closed many years ago……..
© 2012 Michael Fiveson
I sit quietly
sounds and laughter are no more
I miss the children
I remember you
in everything beautiful
soft breezes mostly
we were children then
although I knew I loved you
our first kiss inside
© 2012 Michael Fiveson
the harvest dried up
just look at the welfare line
vacant eyed children
a bogus idea
trickle down economics
the rich get richer
the golden harvest
closed their doors for lack of funds
fat cats didn’t care
